I still forget, sometimes, that we are living in New York. I mean, I don't forget, but I get, complacent, I guess. Or just used to it. And then something will happen, I'll be standing in a park somewhere and look up to find the Empire State Building (otherwise know around these parts as the Entire State Building if you are speaking with Evelyn) looming overhead. And I suddenly think, wow, this is New York! I wonder if people who have lived here a long time feel this way, if they suddenly realize, every now and then, that everything around them has been in a movie or a book or is some kind of icon in American culture.
On Thursday, before putting the turkey in the oven or cleaning the house for our guests, we went to the parade. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. And even though I know it's here, it still seems odd to be able to hop on a subway, pop up right in front of the Sonic Balloon as it passes by and still be home by lunch.
Or to be able to wander down 77th street the night before (ok, wander might not be the work, jostle, would be better) watching them inflate Mr. Koolaid and Sponge Bob. I think both kids almost fainted when Santa went by at the end of the parade. Evelyn has switched her writing and coloring theme from "I love my family" to "I love Santa" and has a substantial stack of illustrations to deliver to the big guy when we go see him at Macy's
Be forewarned Santa, much, much art is heading your way.